It's not Fall yet, I keep reminding myself as Maria, and I motor through the Wisconsin countryside. However, I continue my interior dialogue, when the "color" does start its migration South, we have to repeat this trip. For a confirmed Urbanite, I've had spent a considerable amount of my life in the country. My industrial sales career may have kept me from joining the Rotary, Lions or Junior Chamber of Commerce because my travel schedule, but I could have written a book about small town dinners and supper clubs. That is until Micky D's, and the chain brass and fern restaurant's closed a lot of them down.
Country roads are still picturesque and frothing with nostalgic views of dairy farms and that hint of the way things used to be. In between the still occupied farm houses and out buildings, there are new homes ranging from McMansions to factory built double wide mobile homes. I spotted a beat up old bicycle sitting in a yard leaning against a tree surrounded by planted flowers. In the city, it would be a public art installation. Out here you know that somebody just forgot to put their bike in the garage. Here and there are horses, goats, sheep, and cows wandering about in pastures. As night falls, the deer come out to watch our headlights.
The towns and cross road villages have a lot of vacant retail space, but there are the exceptions. One town we visited is going through a second act with younger people moving in and opening a boutique business, starting organic farming operations, and some just trying to locate less expensive living space.
There are currently some serious trade off issues with this movement. The schools can be under staffed and funded because of current state budgets and failed equalized funding laws. The customers for those new little businesses are often tourists. This brings a seasonal aspect to the customer base and the cash flow. And, the technology may not live up to the expectations of migrating city families.
But they come. They move in with that recipe for granola, they are sure will support the family, as soon as their Website starts pumping in orders. Or, maybe it's their Vegan restaurant, their unique clothing business or farm to table organic vegetable crop. Trust me, I'm not making fun f these people. Far from it. I admire their courage and imagination. This revival of the back to nature movement isn't new in my lifetime, nor do I think it's a bad thing. The so called hippies in the sixties and seventies revived the composting concept that is still with us. I also remember when We had our choice of maybe six different brands of beer, then the boutique beer brewing got rolling.
Mother nature can be a bitch when she chooses. We only have to look to the Republic of Texas in the last week to remind us. She can be relentless. Those plants the grow up in between the cracks in our driveway or sidewalk is her fingernail on the blackboard. She can be persistent and patient. We clear land. We grow crops on it. All around the edges of this field, we see the native plants', grasses and weeds just waiting for the field to go fallow. Like that field, I see the entire rural areas of our state. Those area's that used to be important. When farms were true, family farms. When communities were teaming with people and possibilities.
What I see is this potential wilderness space struggling to be relevant. Old and wise and full of memories, this countryside is still attempting to contribute to society. It can be ignored, just use the interstate highway to get around or travel to these communities in high tourist season. You'll bump into more people like you than people living there. But if you get out of the car in Princeton, walk over to pop up kitchen on the vacant lot next to the river, order a gourmet sandwich served in a pie tin with a grease paper liner and sit under the repurposed patio table and chairs (Nothing Matches) and sit quietly, you can get a sense of why it's important to us, even us entitled smug urbanites.
Like a friend told me once, "I want to make sure Yellowstone Park is still a public space. I may never go there, but I want it there in case I ever decide I want to visit."
Country roads are still picturesque and frothing with nostalgic views of dairy farms and that hint of the way things used to be. In between the still occupied farm houses and out buildings, there are new homes ranging from McMansions to factory built double wide mobile homes. I spotted a beat up old bicycle sitting in a yard leaning against a tree surrounded by planted flowers. In the city, it would be a public art installation. Out here you know that somebody just forgot to put their bike in the garage. Here and there are horses, goats, sheep, and cows wandering about in pastures. As night falls, the deer come out to watch our headlights.
The towns and cross road villages have a lot of vacant retail space, but there are the exceptions. One town we visited is going through a second act with younger people moving in and opening a boutique business, starting organic farming operations, and some just trying to locate less expensive living space.
There are currently some serious trade off issues with this movement. The schools can be under staffed and funded because of current state budgets and failed equalized funding laws. The customers for those new little businesses are often tourists. This brings a seasonal aspect to the customer base and the cash flow. And, the technology may not live up to the expectations of migrating city families.
But they come. They move in with that recipe for granola, they are sure will support the family, as soon as their Website starts pumping in orders. Or, maybe it's their Vegan restaurant, their unique clothing business or farm to table organic vegetable crop. Trust me, I'm not making fun f these people. Far from it. I admire their courage and imagination. This revival of the back to nature movement isn't new in my lifetime, nor do I think it's a bad thing. The so called hippies in the sixties and seventies revived the composting concept that is still with us. I also remember when We had our choice of maybe six different brands of beer, then the boutique beer brewing got rolling.
Mother nature can be a bitch when she chooses. We only have to look to the Republic of Texas in the last week to remind us. She can be relentless. Those plants the grow up in between the cracks in our driveway or sidewalk is her fingernail on the blackboard. She can be persistent and patient. We clear land. We grow crops on it. All around the edges of this field, we see the native plants', grasses and weeds just waiting for the field to go fallow. Like that field, I see the entire rural areas of our state. Those area's that used to be important. When farms were true, family farms. When communities were teaming with people and possibilities.
What I see is this potential wilderness space struggling to be relevant. Old and wise and full of memories, this countryside is still attempting to contribute to society. It can be ignored, just use the interstate highway to get around or travel to these communities in high tourist season. You'll bump into more people like you than people living there. But if you get out of the car in Princeton, walk over to pop up kitchen on the vacant lot next to the river, order a gourmet sandwich served in a pie tin with a grease paper liner and sit under the repurposed patio table and chairs (Nothing Matches) and sit quietly, you can get a sense of why it's important to us, even us entitled smug urbanites.
Like a friend told me once, "I want to make sure Yellowstone Park is still a public space. I may never go there, but I want it there in case I ever decide I want to visit."
From the provinces of Northen Wisconsin in the shadow of the Church of The Green Bay Packers this Poppa Jeff from Camp Jeff wishing you a good week.
PS: My coach, Marshall Cook is one year older this week. If my writing is good, it's because of him and his friends at UW Extension. If it's not, then obviously I didn't listen.
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